Dancing Forward
by Willow25
Summary: By far the hoakiest thing I've ever written. One shot, Season 5ish MSR. Stolen sweets are always sweeter...


Title: Dancing Forward

By: Willow25

Rating: G (so much so I'm embarrassed)

Spoilers: "Post-Modern Prometheus" I imagine this set in early season 7.

A/N: This is an ancient story I rescued from the depths of my hard drive; it was submitted to Gossamer under my old pen name SkyeGen, but as far as I know never published there, so I'm giving it a home where others can enjoy. I guess this is dedicated to Michelle, my favorite Ska girl. It's also dedicated to Sergio and everyone else at PASO and PAJO. And yes, you can hire the orchestra for weddings.

* * *

Mulder looked around the smoke filled room, uneasiness creeping up on him. "Scully, are you sure you want to do this? I think we're the oldest people here."

"Mulder, don't be silly. There are people here with a good twenty or thirty years on us." Scully pointed to a crowd of senior citizens towards the back of the room. "And besides, this was your idea."

She was right. A casual evening out, something they had never done together, something out of the ordinary. That had been Mulder's thought as he read the ad. He had actually talked Scully into it, over her vehement protests that she was no good at this kind of thing, she would embarrass herself. Mulder had soothed her worries, and had made it sound like a night not to be missed.

Scully sighed, and pulled Mulder by the hand to a table she had spotted against one wall. Leave it to Mulder to get cold feet now, when they were so far out of their way, when she had just realized how much fun this was going to be. They rarely went out in public off hours, preferring to stay at one of their apartments and rest after all the running around they did at work. She wasn't letting him back out of this; not a chance.

They sat down and ordered drinks from a waitress so eager to serve them she almost beat them to the table. "Sorry for the rush," she explained, "but in a few minutes you'll have to go to the bar to order. The place gets too wild for us to be wandering around."

Mulder grinned, snapping out of his worry like a rubber band. "Hey Scully, this won't be so bad. We're just part of the crowd."

Scully returned his goofy smile. At least they were both on the same page mood-wise. "That's good. At least that way no one except you will notice me stepping on your toes."

"Oh, come on, Scully. We danced together once before, and you didn't kill me. You'll do fine." Mulder reached across the table and squeezed her fingers, as the waitress came back with their drinks. They sipped, and chatted for a while, as the room filled with more and more people. At some point the staff began directing people upstairs to the balcony, because all the tables and chairs near the dance floor were full.

Just as Mulder was wondering when the music was going to start, an emcee came out on stage, and the crowd calmed. "Ladies and Gentlemen, it's my pleasure to present to you tonight, the Pan-American Jazz Orchestra, with the Glenmont Chamber Singers!"

The crowd applauded, as the musicians and singers filed onto stage and found their places. The piano player stood before his instrument and introduced himself as the band leader, and went on to explain in a thick South American accent that they were professional musicians who played for this non-profit orchestra in their spare time.

As the band leader rambled on about the music they were going to play that night, Scully leaned across the table. "Hey Mulder, he's pretty cute."

Mulder looked at the guy with a critical eye, trying to see what Scully found impressive. He had olive toned skin, was probably three inches shorter than Mulder, and had curly black hair which fell in all directions around his face, with one curl hanging into his eyes. Mulder shrugged. "He's OK, if you like that skinny, Latin type." He grinned mischievously at Scully. "At least you wouldn't get a crick in your neck kissing him."

Scully chuckled. "Well, not as bad a crick, anyway." She smiled at Mulder, squeezing his fingers as he returned her smile.

On stage, the band leader was evidently done with his speech, and after making sure to remind the audience that the orchestra was available for weddings and private parties, he yelled, "OK, let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

The audience cheered and whistled as he turned to sit at the piano, and cued the band. They launched into "Boogey Woogey Bugle Boy", and people from all over the room got up to dance. Mulder stood, tugging Scully with him. "Come on, Scully, they're playing our song."

Mulder and Scully made their way out to the dance floor, finding an open space. Mulder just started dancing, leading Scully, but it soon became obvious that Scully hadn't been kidding about stepping on his toes. Mulder figured both his feet were going to be black and blue. Chuckling at her ineptitude, Scully offered him an apologetic grimace. "I told you swing dancing wasn't my cup of tea, Mulder."

"That's OK, Scully, I'll just have to teach you." Mulder pulled her to a section of the dance floor off to one side, where there was more room.

Mulder started out with some basic steps, murmuring instructions in Scully's ear. She was a quick study, and soon they were twirling around the floor, having a wonderful time; Mulder especially, because he wasn't having his toes stepped on.

The orchestra played "Pennsylvania 6-5000", and "Take the A-Train", and a medley of Nat King Cole songs before Mulder and Scully took a break. They made their way up to the bar and found a spot on the far end away from the dance floor. From this vantage point, Scully noticed that the bar was larger than she had originally thought. There was another dance floor past where they sat, which had been hidden by a large grouping of plants, and another on the balcony above them; or at least that's what it sounded like.

Mulder flagged down a bartender to order a drink. "Michelob, please."

"And for your wife?"

"Cape Cod." Scully responded without batting an eyelash.

Mulder looked at her in awe. People had been mistaking them for spouses for so long, it came as no surprise to either of them. What did surprise him was that Scully had stopped correcting people. When he had questioned her, Scully's response was "what does it hurt?" Mulder really had no response to that, so he tried to come to terms with the fact that Scully considered it a harmless humoring of people they would never see again, and tried hard not to think of it as a confirmation that she would say yes if he asked.

The bartender brought their drinks, and leaned against the bar between the two of them. "So, how long have you guys been married?"

Mulder felt himself turning bright red. As he opened his mouth to explain, he heard Scully from behind him. "Just a few months."

Mulder blinked. What the heck was she doing? Was she insane?

The bartender seemed surprised. "Really? From the way you two act together, I'd have said longer."

Mulder heard himself responding without thinking. "Well we've worked together for 7 years now, so that's probably why."

The bartender nodded sagely. "Yup, yup. That must be it. You two seem very comfortable together. Work closely together, do you?"

Scully nodded. "We're partners." Evidently, Mulder thought, that was Scully's version of an explanation.

The bartender, however, was OK with that. "Well, good luck to you both." He smiled and walked away.

Mulder turned to Scully, not quite able to reconcile his honest-to-a-fault partner with the woman sitting next to him. What was going on here? If he didn't get her to explain this soon, he was going to start sprouting alternate universe theories.

Mulder leaned over and murmured in Scully's ear. "Why did you tell him we were married?"

Suddenly it was Scully's turn to look at him as though he was nuts. She stared into Mulder's eyes; reading fear, longing and curiosity. "Mulder," She murmured. "As far as I'm concerned, we've been married since the first time we slept together."

Mulder did a double take. Ok, now he was sure he was in an alternate universe. "OK, so explain this to me slowly, as though I were an idiot; because, honestly, I feel like I've missed something."

Scully smiled. "You remember how we talked that night, about all the things we wanted to do together, with the rest of our lives."

Mulder smiled. "I seem to remember that, yes."

"And how we planned a huge wedding, with the big church, and everyone we knew, and then when we thought about who we wanted to have, we realized that it would be a lot smaller than it would ever be in our heads.

"You said that we already had the most important thing, us, so the wedding could wait until we were through saving the world and everything else. It made me think, really, about what we have. We've been through so much together, there is no possible way we could get closer. An actual wedding is completely irrelevant at this point."

Mulder raised an eyebrow at her. "Scully, that's gotta be the hoakiest thing I've ever heard you say."

Scully blushed and slapped him across the upper arm. Mulder lunged forward, grabbed her, and dragged Scully onto his lap, wrapping her up in his arms. He leaned forward and kissed the scar on the back of her neck. "Well, even though you're overly sentimental and corny, I love you anyway."

Scully chuckled. "So you don't think a wedding is irrelevant?"

"Of course not. I fully expect to marry you one day in a church, in front of our families and Skinner. Just not right now. Of course, if you really wanted to make it official, we could find a justice of the peace and do it next weekend. I'm OK with that too."

"Now who's being overly sentimental?" Scully chuckled. "Mulder, honestly, I don't mean to pressure you into proposing; that's not how either of us operates. It's just that when you had this idea, to go out tonight and relax and forget about work, it seems sometimes like this is the closest we're ever going to get to a normal life. And that's honestly OK with me. I love our work; the intellectual challenge it presents, the traveling, the feeling of accomplishment when we neatly wrap up a case. It's just nice once in a while to imagine what we'd be doing with our lives if we weren't at the FBI."

"Well, technically, the Bureau isn't what's stopping us." Mulder pulled Scully closer, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Or I should say, what's stopping me. What's stopping me is that it would make us better targets. After all, as long as we're living apart, they can only come after one of us at a time." Mulder shrugged sheepishly. "What can I say. I worry."

"You're such a Jewish mother sometimes." Scully ruffled his hair and slid off Mulder's lap onto her own stool.

Mulder turned towards Scully. "OK, I'll make you a deal. Whenever we're not working, we'll be married."

Scully frowned. "Mulder, we can't just be married."

"Sure we can, Scully. We are tonight. Look, we both want this, but right now we agree is not the right time. Right?" Scully nodded. "So we go away every once in a while, somewhere no one knows us, and we do just what we're doing tonight."

Scully smiled. Mulder, who knew so well how impossible their enemies were to escape, was trying to find a life for them away from all the horrors they faced. She nodded slowly. "You got yourself a deal, Mulder."

Mulder grinned. "Ready to get back out there, Scully?"

Scully stood and reached for his hand. "Bring it on."

* * *

Stolen sweets are always sweeter,

Stolen kisses much completer,

Stolen looks are nice in chapels,

Stolen, stolen be your apples.

Song of Fairies


End file.
